The Eighth Hero
by Shintouyu
Summary: "I am the Eighth Hero." [Hiatus]
1. We Began Our Adventure Together

**The Eighth Hero**

Chapter One

_We Began Our Adventure Together_

* * *

In the small regional land known as the Middle-Domains, a collaboration of many more smaller domains, tyranny reigned.

The sentient races that lived there, the humans, the halflings, the elves, and the dwarves, were suppressed by a great evil. That evil was known as the Overlord and he commanded an army of goblin, orcs, trolls, undead, and demons to do his bidding.

The races banded together in their time of need and rebelled against the evil. They called themselves 'the Alliance' and named the Overlord's forces as 'the Scourge.'

Wars were fought. Battles were won and battles were lost.

But the war never ended.

The Overlord had a near infinite supply of goblins and undead, while the forces of the Alliance simply continued to dwindle away.

Hope was dying.

But then an old wizard returned from the distant lands back to his homeland of the Middle-Domains and brought light back with him. The respected veteran of adventuring and heroism gathered seven other individuals and together they stood against the Scourge.

Maple Underbell was small even for a halfling. Many said that her size was because that girl did not eat much. She often ate little and many cases it even bordered among being starvation. Yet, despite being so weak with hunger, she always wanted to be the bravest hero of them all, even though her real talents lied in singing songs and weaving tales. She was a bard and the littlest of heroes.

Oronel Greenhaze was a beautiful elf. She was the absolute best of their race. She was accurate enough with a bow-and-arrow to hit pin-sized targets hundreds of yards away and also had incredible hearing. She had a strong sense of duty and was almost always serious, yet inside she was soft and deeply valued camaraderie. She was a ranger and the most elegant of heroes.

Sir William Penthrone the Black was the sole heir of the Penthrone Royal Family. She was raised as a man and raised as a warrior. She learned of her divine right in life and the powers she wielded because it. She was enforcer of her family's laws and called 'the Black' because she had harden her heart and spared mercy to nobody. Yet all she wanted was to be like a woman and live a free life. She was a paladin and the coldest of heroes.

Goldo Golderson was a miser of a dwarf. He held a tight grip and kept an intensive record of everything that was on his person. He would always make use of all his possessions beyond the common sense of feasibility. He salvaged and hoarded everything he could carry and had a mind more intelligent than most. Yet he had a big heart and would always lend a helping hand to others without asking for anything in return, all he needed to know was that he could properly finish the job and receive a thank you at the end. He was an inventor and the humblest of heroes.

Jewel the Blessed was the richest of people. She was abandoned as a child with but a single jewel and her adopted parents had named her thus. She grew up and attained the title of 'the Blessed' because good things almost always came her way. She avoided all kinds of accidents and had all types of riches fall onto her lap. She could give away her fortune and it would have a find to come back to her in double the amount. Yet she did not believe that life should be served on a silver platter, she wanted to earn the things she was given. She was a bandit and the luckiest of heroes.

Kalim the Guardian was the strongest of humans. She was a slave brought over from the lands far beyond and her freedom was bought by Jewel. The two became inseparable friends, perhaps even secret lovers, but whatever the case she was venerated as the 'the Guardian' for always protecting Jewel. She was tough, fast, and strong and could challenge even trolls with her strength, yet did not enjoy fighting or the death that surrounded her. She was a berserker and the mightiest of heroes.

Myorzo the Grand Wizard was the oldest of men. His stories, his adventures, his legends, everything about him was simply more than any one person could hope to tell. When someone says 'the Wizard' or 'Grand Wizard' then it would always certainly be him. Yet he was a simple old man, he was kind and friendly like a grandfather and liked to brag about his family. He was a wise wizard and the most experienced of heroes.

I was born a nameless slave and had a peculiar and unique condition that made me both a woman and not, because of that I was never dumped into the life of a whore but instead sent to fight in the arenas. I fought and fought and fought and killed and killed and killed to survive and then one day a wizard on a journey back to his homeland had arrived at the coliseum and gave me my freedom. Yet even with freedom, I chose to follow him until the day I died. I was a gladiator and the quietest of heroes.

We eight banded together and became the new hope of the Middle-Domains and fought alongside the Alliance. Through life and death our bonds had transcended friendship, family, and love. We were heroes.

Battles upon battles, we slowly pushed back the Scourge to their final fortress of the Dark Tower and sought out the Overlord who presided in his throne.

Ascending up the tower, floor by floor, we reached the throne room for our final confrontation.

But we were truly not prepared for this battle.

Maple and Goldo were severely burned, Oronel was blinded, William and Kalim suffered broken bones, Jewel was cursed, and Myorzo and I were tired and exhausted. The Overlord too was nearing the end of his strength but still had more than enough to finish us off.

I provided a single distraction and received a broken arm. In that moment Myorzo had cast a powerful lightning spell against the Overlord's destructive fire spell. The two powers collided but the Overlord was slowly losing, in desperation he began the collapse of his own Dark Tower to bury us all alive.

"RUN! HURRY! ESCAPE WITH YOUR LIVES!" Myorzo frantically shouted.

We wanted to stay, we wanted to finish the fight, but the old wizard refused us.

"GO! BEFORE I HAVE TO GIVE YOU KIDS A PROPER BONK ON THE HEAD!" he chuckled out.

Solemnly and reluctantly we escaped.

Goldo in his toughness ignored the burns, he had face tougher in his own experiments that exploded, and carried Maple. Though blinded Oronel could still 'see' the world around her and moved just as well as she did when she had sight. Jewel supported Kalim and I supported William.

Downwards we went as the tower shook and tremble but we continued to escape as fast as we could.

Then the floor beneath William and I had given out and together we would have fallen, but I threw her out of the way and so I fell alone. I see shock on their face and I hear their shouting but now I have dropped too far away from them.

Ah.

My body hits stones and stones hit my body.

I fell but not in a straight fall. I am 'rolling' down the Dark Tower. My flesh bruises, my skin and muscle are flayed, my bones crack, my limbs bend in angles, my body bleeds, my eye-sights, hearing, and feeling of pain become dim, yet I continue to live.

It feels like an eternity as I continue spiraling down.

And then the world suddenly stops.

Where am I? I do not know.

Ah. Am I dead? I was always afraid of dying. I thought it would be more painful. Yet I feel calm and relaxed.

I'm sorry.

I know we all promised to make it out alive and together but it seems that I can't keep our promise.

What was it again? You'll kill me if I die?

That's fine. As long as you guys survive then you can punish me as you like.

We wanted to make a story with a happy ending and I ruined it.

I'm sorry.

...

And then I was dead.

...

Black. There is nothing but the black void as I weakly open my eyes.

Slowly my senses return.

First is touch. I feel cold, naked, and confined and cannot suppress a shiver. I feel blood rush inside my body as my breathing picks up.

Ah, am I inside a stone coffin?

Next my smell returns and it is the scent of death. I lick my lips and swallow my saliva and wince at the strong taste of blood and iron.

I cannot tell if my sight or hearing have returned.

But am I alive?

Shortly, I hear sounds from the outside. It is gibberish to me. My hearing is disoriented as though I had just stood next to a cannon-fire.

The cover is moved and dim light shines in but it still hurts my eyes. The cover is removed completely but all I can see is brown, blue, yellow, and black blurs.

"Rub some acids in her eyes, that'll freshen her up!" said a old voice.

A brown blur leaves and shortly returns rubbing this 'acid' over my eyes. It is painful and burns, my eyes tear and that clears my eye sight. Slowly, I begin to recognize the shapes.

Before me are several of the goblin creatures that served the Overlord during the war.

Instincts flare up but my body cannot react. It stiffens and aches and I cannot move at anything but a snail's pace.

I am helpless.

"I see you're awake, master. Come now, there is much evil to do be doing!"

I weakly climb out as the goblins assist me but still I trip and hit the floor.

"Give it a moment, you've been sleeping for a very long time. The tiredness will wear off and your muscles with grow limber again!"

I narrow my eyes at the speaker. It is a old-looking goblin draped with a ragged cloak and a glow-stone above its head.

It sees my hostility and answers amused, "I am Gnarl, Minion Master and devoted Servant of Darkness."

Why?

And as though it had read my thoughts, its answer smoothly.

"Because you are the Overlord."

* * *

**Author Notes**

My apologies in advance. I am recalling the game from memory, and I am not replaying the game while I am typing this fanfic, so canonical dialogue is going to be a bit... '_iffy_.'

Anyone who has read my other work, Zero's Noble Overlord, up to Chapter Seven should have been aware that I was working on another story. The Eight Hero is it. I know, it's not any of the ones listed my profile, sorry.

Readers of Zero's Noble Overlord, please don't worry, I consider ZNO to be my main-project and this TEH to be a side-project. If we pretend that my schedule was 4 hours free then I would be spending 3 hours on ZNO and 1 hour for TEH. So, yes, TEH will have a slow update pace.


	2. The Guard Dog Of The Dark Tower

**The Eighth Hero**

Chapter Two

_The Guard Dog Of The Dark Tower_

* * *

...

"Because you are the Overlord."

...

* * *

I... am the Overlord?

My fingers twitch and my hands slowly clench into a fist. There was nothing more than I wanted to do right now than to choke the life out of that hideous goblin.

But still, my body was too weak to move. It ached from everything; the sensation of the cold air and stones, the warm flowing of my blood, the shivering movements of my muscles, the stinging air that I breathed. Everything.

The other younger looking goblins look at me with concern in their eyes and spoke almost timidly at my current state.

One of them left of their accord and returned shortly after and threw a ragged red cloth over me.

"Cold?" it asked me.

How odd. I didn't believe that these monsters were aware of such emotions or capable of such kindness.

...

Hours past and little by little the burden of helplessness left me.

I stood up with my own two feet and examined the rest of my body.

I am unhurt.

I am alive.

How? Why?

"Curious indeed, milady," the old goblin said, "Do you, perhaps, still remember your previous life?"

Previous life?

"You died, lord, and it is here that we revived you," it answered once again as though it was reading my mind, "Even if your revival was a smashing success, I thought a few of your brain cells would have gone up and die. Oh, how nice, I won't need to teach you how to fight, that's one less thing to worry."

I want to kill it. I want to kill it. I want to kill it.

But I restrain myself. I need answers.

"There are evil deeds that need doing and you are the only one who can fulfill them."

Why me? I am a hero.

"And that makes you the perfect person for the task, milady. Do you know what 'necessary evil' is? It's evil that must exist for good to be spared. Like say, a man must kill all the infected people of a little village to prevent the plague from spreading any further. A good deed to the rest of the world but now he must carry the burden of blood for the rest of his life. You should have no such problem, lord."

Why not? What task would evil need to revive a hero for?

"Because evil always finds a way, milady. Your predecessor may be currently indispose but he was just one of the many evils in these realm. You do not know, since you have been resting, but after your fall and the victory over the previous overlord, the heroes were hailed by the Middle-Domains as the Seven Heroes.

And now they have attained power and power corrupts.

They have fallen to sins, lord. Possessed by evil far greater than even the overlord himself. Though the meager Alliance have won, the Middle-Domains have fallen into depravity. It's merely a matter of time until even this realm is turned utterly desolated."

That... That cannot be true. How could the others have fallen? That's...

No, it is not true. Even if it is, why should you care? Are you not a servant of evil yourself?

"Because I serve the necessary evil, lord. The sins are merely viewed as evil but truly they are forces more chaotic than evil. Evil is what evil does but the sins are exactly what they are."

And you're asking me to...

"Kill the Seven Heroes and restore balance to the Middle-Domains."

Ah.

I leap. I want to strangle this cur until it suffocates and defecates itself to death. I want my hands to crush it windpipe and my fingers to pierce its throat and draw fresh blood. I want to pull out its spine from its throat, stick my hand down, and pull out its twisted heart and crush it then smear it across the wall before beating the body with its own head.

But the old goblin threw something at me.

A powder of some kind. My eyes and throat are burning and even my skin is tingling. I slam on the empty space it once stood on and cannot stop tearing up nor can I stop coughing.

"Calm, milady. You need me."

I don't.

"The bridge to the Dark Tower had collapsed long ago and only a giant chasm awaits those who step outside. The same chasm you fell into, lord. There is no physical way to leave except to use the well-portal in the throne room, but a wild beast has made their residence there. It'll be impossible for you to kill it on your own and while the minions may be stupid they know were their loyalties lie, milady.

And while you may say you do not need my assistance, once you see the world outside, no doubt you'll require the resources of an overlord to defeat the Seven Heroes."

Hate. I have nothing but hate and contempt for this thing.

...

The goblins garb me in new light armor.

It resembles the armor I used to wear, except that my left gauntlet now holds a strange magical orb embedded into it. Even the regular clothes are the same exact ones that I wore but were now ragged and stitched together.

As a gladiator, I am used to wearing more lighter armor or just cloth for protection. I am used to having little armor to the point where there is nearly none. I am used to having to rely on both my strength and mobility to keep me alive.

I have been told time and time again that my way of fighting is reckless and suicidal but it is the way that I have fought and survived.

And so this attire feels completely natural to me.

But more important than the armor was the weapon. They gave me a medium sword.

I did not like it. I was to used to much heavier and larger swords to attack and defend with; swords that had less of an edge and depended more on crushing than actually cutting but still able to cut when enough force is applied.

"Apologies, milady, but your old blade was broken during your falling and we had no more materials and no more time to have forged you a new weapon before the Dark Tower was raided and the Smelters stolen. The blade there is just something the browns procured by from a fallen soldier."

The soldier is dead now, so I suppose they won't mind me using it. I am disappointed that I cannot use my old sword; it was as big as I was tall.

"Now that you're all dressed and proper, why don't we take a tour around the Dark Tower and learn more of your abilities, Overlord?"

No.

The beast, I want to see it.

...

The room I was revived in was the basement, a floor I had never visited before. The throne room I have been to before, it is the on the top floor. Two stairways lead up to it at the middle. At one end was the well-portal and the other end, near the throne, the beast.

A large wolf the size of two bears with horns on the top of its head. Black and red in color and golden feral eyes. Sharp fangs and claws. Broken chains and clamps linger on its neck and feet. Shrouded in hunger and madness.

The Dire Wolf of the Blazing Plains, Fenris.

Together with its partner, The Bull Dog of the Burning Lands, Garmr, the pair were one of the nightmares to the Alliance forces.

Tough. Fast. Vicious. Tricky. Many stories were told about the hellhounds and many people had without a doubt died to them.

When Oronel, Kalim, William, and I first fought the duo were realized just how deadly the monsters were. They were not simple beasts that charged in. They were calculating and cunning, always harassing us at unexpected moments. In our first encounter, they escaped unharmed as the rest of the heroes arrived, meanwhile Kalim and I were on death's edge and Oronel and William were injured.

We met them several times during the war. They were always harassing and stalling the fights before escaping after inflicting pain and fear.

Eventually the Alliance dedicated a large amount of resources to hunting down the hellhounds. They were led into a trap by the Myorzo's many illusionary spells. Garmr was killed but the Alliance suffered a heavy loss. And Fenris was severely wounded but escaped.

I never imagined that I'd see that monster once again.

Fenris is not at peak condition but nor am I.

I will die if I challenged it as I am now.

I walk back to the basement and the old goblin is aware of my questions.

"As you know, lord, near the end of the war the Alliance was exhausted of resources. By the end of the war, they had no resources to share, everything went into repairing their own territories. When Fenris had reappeared to cause all sorts of nasty trouble the Middle-Domains simply couldn't spare the soldiers to catch it, oh no, the Seven Heroes were too busy indulging in their sins as well."

I silently seethe. I do not like how this ugly creature addresses my comrade in arms.

"Thus the poor villagers took things into their hands. They created simple traps to wear down the dog but eventually someone got a hold of some explosives from the dwarves and gave the dog quite the concussion. Afterward, with mere pitchforks and torches, they were able to chase it all the here to the Dark Tower. Once cornered, Fenris got a wee bit angry and tore them to pieces. The rest of the frightened villagers then used the remaining explosives to blow up the bridge and leave it trapped here."

That explains a few things.

"That was about two years ago."

Two years ago... Two years... years...

How long have I been asleep anyways?

"Oh, alittle over three years, milady."

Three years. It's sounds so short, yet it's been so long.

"Now then, lord, perhaps you would like to learn how to control your Minions?"

...

I stand on a open circle surrounded by large rocks covered in moss, grass, and trees.

A deep breath. A slow exhale.

I move my arms and swing my blade one-handed. Two-handed. I use stances, I do not use stances. I run, jump, crouch, roll, and perform other maneuvers.

I am out of breath. I am tired.

Stronger than the average man, perhaps still fit to fight against veterans, but still I am weaker than before. I cannot definitely challenge Fenris and survive. No, I cannot challenge many other monsters and survive anymore.

I am weak.

There are five goblins, Minions as they are formally called, outside with me. The old minion and four young ones; one of them is wearing a jester hat and staff.

"I see we have no need to test your coordination, milady, I didn't want to test whether you could view up and down nor left and right properly," the old disgusting minion said, "Now then, let us continue you with the first lesson of Minion combat, lord. The gauntlet you yield is a special item, it allows you to directly transmit your intentions and commands into the lesser mind of your devoted Minions. Go on, try it! Order them to give Jester here a good thrashing!"

The jester runs up the hill.

"Bah! As if this worthless wench is worthy of becoming the overlord!" it declared in a high-pitched and obnoxious voice.

I calm my mind.

'_Attack_,' I pointed at the jester and the three young goblins rushed away waving their clubs.

The jester ran screaming and hurling insults from its merciless beating.

"Good, good. Now call back your Minions, milady," the old goblin said.

I do.

The jester limps away up a large fallen tree trunk and glares at me from above.

"Good, lord, now you must '_sweep_' them. Command and direct them to follow a specific path to reach Jester."

I formulate the path in mind, '_Attack_,' I ordered once again pointing at the jester. The young goblins eagerly follow my instructions and whack the jester off the trunk. It falls onto the ground with a audible crack and struggles to get back up.

"Excellent, milady! You're a quick learner. Now, for the final part of this tutorial of overlordship, do Jester here a favor and put him out of his misery!"

I walk over and stab my blade into the jester's head. It dies with utter hatred and contempt, its blood seeps away and form a puddle near my feet. But I do not care, I have already killed countless numbers of these goblins back in the war. Fast, numerous, vicious, relentless, always happy to fight and die with glee. I gain a small satisfaction at killing this goblin.

Ah, I see.

I hate Gnarl and this jester because they too are capable of true damnable hate.

"And now you are ready to slay the weakened Dire Wolf of the Blazing Plains, lord," the disgusting minion sneered.

...

It is but five young Minions and I against Fenris. I cannot control any more than that nor do I have much... '_Lifeforce_' to call forth anymore when necessary.

We wait at the edge of the stairways. I command one goblin out.

The monster responds and pounces, the Minions is torn to pieces.

I almost cannot believe it.

It is nothing like the calculating creature I knew it to be. It was now but a shadow of its former self, hunger and madness drove its broken mind.

Fenris was nothing but a wild beast now.

I immediately jump out and easily stab my sword several inches into its side. Its flesh has been weakened, malnourishment has caused it to fester and turn soft. I drag my sword horizontally towards the tail and move away. As I do so, I order the remaining four Minion to climb up the beast and injure it; pry open wounds, pluck out the eyes, pull its fur, whatever they can do to distract the monster.

The mindless beast howls and thrashes about.

How sad. It does not even notice me.

Pain; that is all it feels now and it only wants to remove the strongest pain that it experiences. Is it the deep gash I just created? Is it the goblin that is tearing out its old fur? Is it the goblin that is tearing into old wounds and sticking their hands in? Is it the goblin pulling and gnawing on the ear? Is it the goblin clawing at its exposed flesh?

I do not know but it continued to thrash about, hurting itself in the process of trying to be free of its tormentors.

One Minion is crushed and splattered over the wall but the other three remain firm.

Carefully, I maneuver around the shattered pillars and close in. I approach from underneath the throat and make a horizontal slash; successfully cutting it open deeply. It whips it head about and I am tossed away and crash into a pillar hard.

Fenris howls but only blood spurts out it from its throat. Blood drips out its mouth. It is dying, yet continues to struggles.

But even then, it still does not notice me.

I get back up and limply walk to the beast. I slash at its foreleg, not enough to cut it off, but well enough to cause it to collapse onto the floor.

The three Minions jump off the monster and begin to cheer for our victory.

Yet this is still not over. The beast's eyes dart everywhere, still unaware of its own dying state. It is looking and looking but it has long stopped looking for its attacker.

Its eyes are only searching for the shadowy form of death now.

How pitiful.

Though it has caused many suffering, it was still something to be respected. It was a proud beast and to see it so afraid of death now was a shame. Just like this monster, I have struggled everyday to survive, but an ending like this were the inside is nothing but a hollowed out shell...

I can only believe that death is now an act of mercy.

I wonder... will I struggle this hard to survive as well? To such a bitter end...

I stand before it and plow my blade deep into its head; piercing into its brains. I pull out my weapon and wait for its bodily functions to cease.

A low growl. Then a whimper. And next death arrives.

And now Fenris was dead.

* * *

**Author Notes**

I'm not sure how big people were back in the, uh... 'ages' but I assume something like, 5'ft or 5'5ft tall at best for the male population? The Eight Hero is little bit shorter or alittler taller than 6'ft tall. Not quite as big as the Canon Overlord who was twice the size of everybody else, but still noticeably taller than most.


	3. The Pumpkins And The Tower Heart

**The Eighth Hero**

Chapter Three

_The Pumpkins And The Tower Heart_

* * *

_..._

"They have fallen to sins, lord."

...

* * *

I stood before the corpse that was once the mighty beast known the Dire Wolf of the Blazing Plains.

The body begins to rumble and then it explodes in a dark red flash. The ground is stained with a strange yellow and black smoke. It is sickly looking and smells of utter rot and decay.

"That is Evil Energy, milady," the old disgusting Minion says as it comes up the stairs, "It resides in all of us evil creatures. But more importantly, lord, you should be gathering the Lifeforce that that mutt Fenris dropped."

I blink. There, floating where the hellhound once was, were several yellow and red orbs of light. I reach out and touch one, I feel a strange warmth flow throughout my body before it disappears. What is it?

The surviving three Minions quickly gather the few orbs and deliver them to me. Each time, I felt the warm sensation again.

"Good, milady. That is Lifeforce, the energy a living being drops when they die; don't worry, they won't be needing it anymore," it laughs, "It is the resource you need to summon more Minions, lord. Brown Lifeforce for the Browns and Red Lifeforce for the Red; too bad we don't have the Reds with us because we could certainly use some hot water in this place."

Brown...? Red...?

Ah, there were suppose to be four types of goblins, wasn't there?

"Indeed, there should be, milady. The Browns, the Reds, the Greens, and the Blues. Finding their Minions Hives will be essential to building up your forces. But enough dilly-dallying, lord, step up to well-portal, it has just enough power to send you to wherever closest those blasted do-gooders took the Tower Heart."

...

The dreary atmosphere was gone. Yellow and green. Outside in the dim setting sunlight. The cries of sheep. This place... i-

"The Mellow Hills, milady. I'm sure you remember the human village of Spree and the halfling village of Spriggus."

You are here.

How long will you follow me?

"Of course, lord, I still have some things left to teach you about this new corrupted world. But I'll try not to keel-over from breathing too much from these hideous idyllic plains. Now then, milady, spawn some Brown Minions, no need for the overlord to do any heavy-lifting when there are minions that will gladly do it for you."

I call forth five Browns.

Strange, I have more Lifeforce than that.

"You cannot call forth more Minions than your maximum horde control allows, lord. Your overcore is restricted to five Minions right now, but if you collect more Minion Pillars then you'll be able to control more Minions telepathically," the old goblin tapped its chin, "Ah, speaking of Lifeforce... do you hear it, lord? The bleating of lesser creatures!"

Off to the side there was a small gathering of sheep.

"These animals don't even that they're alive! You can harvest a good amount of Lifeforce from these silly creatures. Worry not, milady, they breed like bunnies and their population will rise the second you take your eyes off of them."

I had little qualms about the population size of the sheep. I had fewer when killing them myself.

I was hungry and started a small fire to cook the sheep meat. I ate and ate and ate to fill my empty stomach.

The other goblins looked hungry but I ignored them. They took to gnawing the remains and leftovers and using the bones as clubs.

The sun had fallen when I had finished my first meal in years.

I could see light in the distance.

That must be Spree. I did not know much about the human village, only that it had bordered a halfling village known as Spriggus... the hometown of Maple Underbell. How is she doing? Is she eating well? I should definitely pay her a visit.

"A wise choice, lord, of the Seven Heroes the Halfling Hero should be the easiest to slay."

I grit my teeth. Damn that disgusting thing. Damn it to darkest levels of hell.

"Now then, lord, let us continue with our search for the Tower Heart. You don't want to sleep outside here during the nights do you?"

...

The goblins pushed through a fallen pillar. Beyond there was a farm with a pumpkin and sunflower field and a man acting like a scarecrow.

"ARGH! BE YOU HALFLINGS?'! Ah, no, you look not like halflings at all. You don't work for the pumpkins do you?"

The Minions gathered around the man.

"Say, do Ol' Bob a favor here and get rid of the pumpkins. They laugh at I, always scheming to get rid of me! Those blasted halfling took over my farm, they did, and planted those evil things! They also stuffed Ol' Bob here, you see, like a hay-man to scare away all the crows! They're as bad as the pumpkins!"

Was this man sane?

No, what was that about the halflings? Why would they be invading homes?

"As I said before, milady, the Seven Heroes have fallen to sins and those sins have corrupted the individuals close to them. That small village of Spriggus is probably utterly corrupted and waiting hand-and-foot to the Halfling Hero."

It can't be.

"So will you help Ol' Bob? Atleast with the pumpkins?"

I let the Minions ravage the pumpkin field; they smashed or ate them up, and a few even placed pumpkins on their head.

"THEY'RE SCREAMING! The pumpkins be screaming! Hahahahaha!"

From out of the farmhouse came three halflings.

Yet they only looked like halflings.

Distorted. Wrong.

I can only describe them negatively.

They shout angrily in the halfling language and rushed to attack us with daggers.

"Those bloody 'alflings are here to help the pumpkins! Kill them! KILL THEM!"

Two engage my five goblins and are quickly slaughtered. The third ran to me and I kicked it away, the halfling is then soundly beaten to death by the bone wielding goblins.

Why?

"Hmm? Oh, this smell? I do believe that is the scent of Gluttony, milady. The Halfling Hero possessed by Gluttony, that would explain what the halflings are doing all the way out here growing pumpkins."

What? But that's...

"No matter how much you refuse to believe it, lord, you'll have to meet the Seven Heroes eventually."

...

We continued down the path past Bob's farm and slayed the sleeping halflings patrols in their sleep.

There was another farmland with overgrown pumpkins.

"I smell magic in the air, milady! That ginormous pumpkin there must be the source of it. Give it a good bashing, lord!"

The five goblins quickly clear out the smaller pumpkin and beat upon the much larger pumpkin, as the flesh of the fruit is peeled off a blue light peeks through.

The large pumpkin reveals a blue-white orb underneath its skin.

"The Tower Heart! The blasted halflings must have been using the magic of the Tower Heart to grow these succulent pumpkins. The fools! They know not the power they had possess! Let us take it back, milady!"

We circled back around our path and returned the Tower Heart to the Dark Tower.

...

I was back in the throne room.

"With the Tower Heart back, we can now finally start our plans, milady. Oh look, the Dark Tower has decided to grant you another Minion Pillar for your services. Why, it even brought along a friend, the Fireball Spell Stone!" the old goblin laughed, "Well then, milady, why don't you get some sleep? You have a busy day ahead of you!"

Where?

"In your private quarters of course, lord, just take those stairs on the left over there."

I walk upstairs and find several severely damaged and empty rooms.

I pick whatever room and simply lie my back on the wall with my sword within arm's reach.

Why? How could my comrades have fallen to sins?

Just what happened after I had died?

Quietly a light sleep takes me.

* * *

**Author Notes**

Well, seems like this writing style doesn't suit me at all and I'm honestly having a hard time continuing this story.

The original length of this chapter was suppose to cover up all the way to learning about the full situation in Spree, but I had to seriously cut it short at the Tower Heart because I'm no longer interested in typing out this chapter and it's taking way too long for way too little.

As of this chapter, Chapter 3, The Eighth Hero is on official hiatus.  
I'm not sure if I'll do a rewrite of a more condensed version with a different writing style or whether I'll simply it pick it back up later as is.

So, thank you to everybody who has read or reviewed this fanfic.


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